Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Cosmic Funnies
Stranger Things
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Kiana Khansmith
styofa doing anything
sheepfilms
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Andulka
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Origami Around
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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shark vs the universe

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@andweremain
Home-funeral guides believe that families can benefit from tending to — and spending time with — the bodies of their deceased.
In that room, the wild thing of grief went untamed by touch, unwalled by words, but with a witness who let it have its way. And its way was quiet.
V. S. Naipaul reckons with the different forms of loss.
After his death, Emily Urquhart ‘sees’ her brother with regularity. Nearly 20 years later, stories and science help to explain why.
WHEN GREAT TREES FALL
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down in tall grasses,
and even elephant slumber after safety.
When great trees fall in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us become slight, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,see with a hurtful clarity.
THE WELL OF GRIEF
Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief,
turning down through its black water to the place we cannot breathe,
will never know the source from which we drink, the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering,
the small round coins, thrown by those who wished for something else.
Accept the lasagna. Do not start reading that Joan Didion book.
When my father died, I wanted desperately to know the timing of this thing. But grief doesn’t have a timeline.
When faced with a death that had felt as if it never would come, I was surprised at the depth of my sadness.
“Because grief, like death, doesn’t adhere to our constructs.”
Along with everything else, I wasn’t prepared for the stigma of becoming a widow this way.
“During a week that elevates suicide prevention to a national imperative, we might do well to consider its invisible casualties, the living wounded.”
Documenting the final moments between critically ill children and their families helped me come to terms with my cancer diagnosis.
“Those who have traveled to that pitch-black room of grief, into the depths of it, know well how in our most horrific of moments we are met with small pricks of bright light, piercing and strong.”
Jacqueline Dooley recalls her difficult transition from being a mother with earthly duties, to becoming one with more spiritual concerns for a teenage daughter with terminal cancer.
Not Right Now by Jason Gray
By Ron Rolheiser
“Finally, it’s incumbent upon us, the loved ones who remain here, to redeem the memory of those who die in this way so at to not let the particular manner of their deaths become a false prism through which their lives are now seen. A good person is a good person and a sad death does not change that. Nor should a misunderstanding.“
In the year after my husband died, every memory triggered flashbacks: Blackberry ice cream. A song on the radio. The angle of sunlight.
“And I’m left with this: That everything we had and everything that happened remains. But a grieving person cannot make her life on memories. All that’s left to do, for the one still standing, is to put that book on the shelf. And carry its lessons wherever life takes her.”
The human body’s most compassionate gift is the interdependence of its parts.